


Our House

by hachoo



Series: Imagine Me And You [2]
Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, M/M, i'm not kidding there's a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-01
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-25 07:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/950329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hachoo/pseuds/hachoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>They’re standing at Dean’s door and Aidan knows he’s pushing it but he can’t help himself. He gently kisses the corner of Dean’s lips, lingering for a moment before drawing back. Dean’s looking up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile and it takes all of Aidan’s self restraint to leave.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>or 'Apartment Story' from Aidan's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our House

**Author's Note:**

> So this was just meant to be a little addition to Apartment Story and then it kind of... expanded. A lot. I'd suggest you read that first, but it's not entirely necessary. The idea for this is all thanks to HelloMrJones who suggested an Aidan!POV version of it :)

Aidan’s not ashamed to admit he nearly cries tears of happiness when his neighbour moves out. 

The guy’s been living in the apartment behind him for around six months. Six months of pure hell for Aidan. His neighbour is loud and obnoxious and throws loud parties that go on until the early hours of the morning, the throbbing music and drunken laughter bleeding through the walls. Aidan’s been forced to buy earplugs so he doesn’t collapse from sleep deprivation at work. 

So when he moves out and there’s suddenly silence next door, Aidan’s half prepared to throw his own party in celebration. He doesn’t though. Instead he buys a bottle of wine and toasts to his departed neighbour. _‘May you move far away and never return.’_

Three weeks later he hears voices coming from the apartment behind him. One is British, light and gentle. The other is harder to place but there’s something about it that intrigues Aidan. He knows the apartment is being looked at by potential renters, he’s heard at least fifteen of them traipsing through the building. Aidan would personally be happy if it stayed empty forever. But then the man with the unidentifiable accent laughs and it’s bright and happy and something in Aidan’s stomach does a little jump. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to have a new neighbour. 

And one week later he does have a new neighbour. Aidan can’t tell who it is for the first few days, knows someone is living there but never hears them speak. And then one Saturday he hears a muffled voice and he can’t hear what is being said but he recognises the laugh and he can’t stop a smile spreading across his face. He doesn’t particularly _want_ to stop it. 

He’s cornered in the staffroom at work on Monday. Evangeline teaches Year One like himself while Lee usually takes the older grades. They both swarm around him the minute he walks in, Evangeline poking his cheeks suspiciously. 

“Why are you so happy?” She demands. Aidan raises his hands in surrender. 

“I’m not happy!” He exclaims and is utterly betrayed by his mouth which refuses to stop smiling. The truth is he’d been getting ready for work when he’d heard his neighbour let out a yelp followed by a string of curses ending with _‘you egg!’_ Every time the phrase came into his mind Aidan couldn’t stop giggling. The commute to work had earned him a lot of odd glances. 

Evangeline poked his cheek again, giving him a withering glare. He’s not surprised her students are considered to be the best-behaved. 

“Clearly something has made you more cheerful than normal. You might as well spill it now or she’s going to pester you for the rest of the day.” Of course Lee is the voice of reason.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just got a new neighbour,” Aidan admits as he tries to walk to the coffee machine. 

“You can’t stop smiling because of a new neighbour? Is she cute? Have you been on a date?”

“My new neighbour is a _he_. I have no idea if he’s cute, I haven’t met him and I definitely haven’t been on a date with him.”

There’s silence for all of two seconds. 

“Then why are you smiling?” Lee asks, confused. Aidan throws his hands in the air. 

“Because he said egg!” He exclaims and quickly dashes to the exit, leaving behind two very concerned co-workers. 

 

\--

 

He spends the better part of a year thinking his neighbour is Australian. It’s only when they get an exchange student-teacher from New Zealand than he figures it out. By the end of the week he’s watched three documentaries and read two books about New Zealand. Aidan feels he’d make a pretty competent stalker. He’s not quite sure whether to be pleased or worried about this. 

Because he does feel a bit like a stalker. A rather reluctant stalker he supposes, seeing as the guy lives right next to him and it’s next to impossible not to pick up knowledge about him. He knows his neighbour has midnight snacks, hears his feet padding towards the kitchen well past eleven in the night. He often hums, almost distractedly and Aidan’s fairly certain he doesn’t actually realise he’s doing it. He talks to his parents and brother weekly over Skype, as well as Batman (and it takes Aidan _months_ to figure out Batman is a dog; he’d been under the impression it was an unfortunately named baby until it had barked). He can tell the difference in the pace at which his neighbour walks when he’s happy and when he’s tired. He knows when his neighbour is missing home because his tv is suddenly playing shows Aidan’s never heard of. 

He knows what makes his neighbour laugh and he files it away in his mind under _important stuff._

Aidan doesn’t quite realise he’s fallen in love with his neighbour until it’s far too late. And when it does finally hit him (with the force of a sledgehammer) he lets out a soft _‘oh’_ and then goes to the shops to buy chocolate. Lots of chocolate. He spends the rest of the day watching romantic comedies and desperately wishing his life was more like the movies. 

 

\--

 

Aidan turns thirty on a Saturday. It kind of feels like the beginning of the end.

Evangeline and Lee take him out for lunch. They keep making jokes about how he’s getting old and ‘ _ooh careful, don’t spill your food or we’ll have to put you in an old persons home’_ or _‘did your knee just crack, are your joints aging already_ ’ and it’s all light hearted and good fun but there’s still a part of Aidan that’s feeling terrified, feeling the years creeping up on him and he _is_ getting old. He’d always envisioned himself married and settled down by the time he hit thirty but here he is, completely unattached and in love with a guy he’s never met. 

The morose thought follows him home when he Skype’s his parents. They sing to him and his mother presents him with a small cupcake and even though he can’t actually eat it he still gets a bit teary. They talk for over an hour but inevitably the conversation turns to his personal life. 

“So have you met anyone yet?” His mother prompts and Aidan’s suddenly sick to the stomach because oh god he’s _thirty_ and he’s spent the last three years pining over a man who doesn’t even know of his existence. 

“Not yet Ma,” he said and the words _hurt._

So he decides to go out and drown his sorrows in alcohol. The bar he’s chosen is loud and busy and he tries to find a secluded table because he doesn’t feel like company. He’s only been there for twenty minutes when a girl approaches. She’s gorgeous, dark hair, blue eyes but Aidan’s not interested and he’s about to tell her so when she opens her mouth and starts to speak and Aidan hesitates because that accent is so familiar. 

“Are you from New Zealand?” He asks and she looks slightly confused but nods. Aidan takes a swig of his beer, closes his eyes for a moment. He makes up his mind a second later.

“Would you like a drink?”

They talk and flirt their way through several beers and Aidan’s not sure why but he’s inviting her back to his apartment. They sit on his couch and talk some more and she starts giggling at almost every word that leaves his mouth. It begins to grate on his nerves and after a while he kisses her just to shut her up. She melts against his mouth, lips soft and plump and when he pulls back she smiles at him, moves to whisper something he doesn’t quite catch into his ear. 

And it’s not quite right but Aidan doesn’t care because he’s thirty and the years are flying down the drain and he’s sick of being alone. So he kisses her again and it’s not long before the kisses become heated and she’s straddling his lap, fumbling with his zipper and Aidan’s suddenly hyper aware that they’re still sitting in his lounge, on his _couch_ and it’s not right because he’s an adult for God’s sake and he has a bed for this sort of thing.

So he mumbles ‘bedroom’ and she nods, gracefully rising and hauling him to his feet. He kisses her again, tries walking her towards his bedroom and perhaps he’s had a bit too much to drink because he accidentally ends up walking her into the wall instead. They both laugh, change their course of direction and it’s not long before he has her naked beneath him, sprawled on his bed. 

It’s all a blur after that. He remembers grabbing the headboard, holding tight as he thrusts into her and her legs bracket his hips, fingernails digging sharply into his back. The bed moves with them and its wild and passionate and it makes Aidan forget, just for a little while. She shouts his name as her legs clamp tightly around his waist. He can’t for the life of him remember hers so he buries his face in her neck instead. 

 

\--

 

Aidan wakes up the next morning with a throbbing headache and sore arms. She’s gone already and even though it’s his bedroom, his home, Aidan still feels used and discarded. He takes a long shower until the water goes ice cold and then goes grocery shopping. The cashier raises an eyebrow at the chocolate ice cream, chocolate biscuits, chocolate spreads and chocolate blocks but says nothing. Aidan spends the rest of the day curled in front of the tv watching old classics and gorging himself with chocolate. He’s half way through Casablanca when he realises he hasn’t heard a single sound from his neighbours apartment. It bothers him, but not enough to stop eating.

By Monday he’s feeling a lot better. He takes what little chocolate he has left over and distributes it amongst his fellow teachers, partly because he’s nice and partly because it’ll give him an advantage when it comes to dibs on the photocopy machine. When Lee asks him how the rest of his weekend was he gives a noncommittal shrug. He can feel Evangeline’s eyes racking over his face, coming to land on the fading bruise just visible over his shirt collar. To his surprise she doesn’t say a word, just offers him a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder. He makes sure to be extra nice to her for the next week.

Just when he thinks life’s looking up, it all crashes down on him again. He notices it when he wakes up on Wednesday. The absolute silence. He glances at his watch, noting the time. His neighbour should be up by now, should be eating breakfast. Aidan should be able to hear the radio, the news reporter informing them both of the weather and traffic. He should hear footsteps padding around the apartment as his neighbour prepares to leave. But instead there’s dead silence. 

Aidan goes through the day with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He tries to convince himself that it’s a one off thing, that he’ll get home and hear the tv through the wall and everything will be fine. But it’s not and he spends the entire night glancing at their shared wall. 

The silence lasts for days, then for a week, then two. Aidan’s terrified something’s happened to his neighbour. He goes around and knocks on the door but receives no answer. He asks the two guys living next door if they know anything but they just shrug; say they haven’t seen him in a while. He takes to knocking on the wall every night just to see if he’ll get a reply but there’s nothing. 

By the end of the second week Aidan’s half convinced his neighbour’s either moved out or is dead because who takes a vacation at the time of the year? He’s just gotten home from work when he hears it. Footsteps next door accompanied by a soft distracted humming and Aidan’s heart _leaps_. He practically runs down the staircase, flings himself out the door and across the pavement to the other side of the building. He races up the five flights of stairs and is then forced to lean against the wall for two minutes to catch his breath and make himself appear somewhat presentable. It’s then and only then that he knocks on the door and waits impatiently. 

The door opens and Aidan stops breathing. 

He’s not quite sure what he was expecting. He’s heard the man’s voice but his face and body have always just been a blob in Aidan’s mind. As it turns out, his neighbour is a few inches shorter than him, has tousled blonde hair and blue eyes and Aidan’s heart thuds a little louder in his chest. 

“Hello?” The man asks and he looks slightly confused and Aidan grins because that voice, that accent. 

“Hi,” he says. “You don’t know me but-”

“You’re Aidan,” the other man interrupts, his eyes wide and Aidan nods. He’s not sure how the other man knows his name but he takes it to be a good sign.

“I’m Dean,” his neighbour offers and Aidan’s cheeks are hurting from smiling so much but finally, _finally_ he has a name. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person Dean,” he says and the name rolls off his tongue. Dean shakes his hand, palm fitting snugly into Aidan’s and Aidan doesn’t want to let go. Dean invites him inside and Aidan accepts immediately, can’t bring himself to stop looking at the man standing before him. And then Dean smiles and Aidan can’t even blink because oh god, _dimples_. 

Aidan ends up staying until the wee hours of the morning. He has work the next day and he knows his brain is going to curse him but he can’t bring himself to leave, doesn’t want to part from Dean’s company. He reluctantly does so when it’s past two and Dean starts yawning, looking utterly too adorable for his own good. They’re standing at Dean’s door and Aidan knows he’s pushing it but he can’t help himself. He gently kisses the corner of Dean’s lips, lingering for a moment before drawing back. Dean’s looking up at him with wide eyes and a soft smile and it takes all of Aidan’s self restraint to leave.

He falls asleep twice in class and the second time he wakes up there are twenty inquisitive faces staring up at him in concern. 

“Did you stay up past your bed time?” One of his pupils asks, her voice reprimanding. “Mummy always says if I don’t go to bed on time I’ll fall asleep in class just like you did.”

“It’s bad to sleep late,” another says and the class hums in agreement. Aidan’s half mortified that he’s being told off by a bunch of six year olds but then he remembers Dean’s smile and it’s worth it.

He makes himself wait another day before he goes to visit Dean again. He takes brownies and what follows is a mess of revelations and embarrassment but it ends with Dean kissing him, Dean holding him close and Aidan’s not quite sure what he’s done to deserve this kind of happiness but he’s grateful for it, whatever it was. 

 

\--

 

It takes them two months to establish that they’re in a proper relationship. 

It happens when Adam gives Aidan ‘the talk’. He swings by one Saturday when they both know Dean has a wedding shoot on. Aidan invites him in and they make small talk and it’s quite nice because Aidan genuinely enjoys Adam’s company. And then Adam puts his drink down and leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. 

“Aidan, how serious are you about Dean?” He asks bluntly and Aidan nearly inhales his own drink in surprise.  
“Well we’ve only been together for about two months,” he begins.

“Dean doesn’t fall for people quickly but he does fall for them hard. I’ve never seen him happier than he has been these past months and I know that’s because of you.”

Aidan goes to speak but Adam cuts him off. 

“Dean’s my closest friend. He’s like my brother.”

“And if I hurt him you’ll beat me up,” Aidan finishes. To his surprise Adam shakes his head. 

“I think Brett will take care of that for me, to be honest. No, I’m fairly certain you would kick my butt in a fight. I’m also fairly certain that you wouldn’t hurt Dean, at least not on purpose.”

“So then…?” Aidan can’t for the life of him figure out where the conversation is heading. Adam sighs.

“I need to know that you’re not leading him on. That this isn’t just some fling for you. Like I said, Dean falls hard and he loves wholeheartedly. If it doesn’t mean the same to you, then-” Adam looks startled when Aidan raises a hand to silence him. 

“You never let me finish,” he says and Adam raised an eyebrow. 

“Finish what?” He asks. 

“We’ve only been together for two months. But I’ve been in love with him since he moved in. And I’d like to think that what we have is something more substantial than just a fling. I don’t know about Dean but I’m in this relationship for the long run.” Aidan can feel a slight blush creeping up his cheeks but he refuses to look away. Adam regards him for a long moment, eyes piercing before his face breaks into a relieved smile.

“I’m so glad you said that,” he says and the slight tension is the air evaporates. They spend the rest of the afternoon making fun of a low budget made-for-television movie with terrible dialogue and even worse special effects. When Adam leaves it’s with a hug and an invitation for dinner the following week and Aidan doesn’t want to jinx it but he’s fairly certain he’s just received Adam’s blessing. 

As soon as Dean gets home Aidan goes over to his apartment. Dean looks exhausted but pleased to see Aidan, invites him inside and moves towards the kitchen to make tea. Aidan stops him with a soft hand, eyes searching. 

“Dean, are we in a relationship?” He asks bluntly. 

“What’s brought this on?” Dean wonders, tugging Aidan along with him to the kitchen. Apparently he’s very determined to make that tea. 

“Just- we’ve never talked about it.”

“Aidan, we’ve been on like twenty dates. You come over here almost every day and on the rare occasion you don’t, I’m over at your apartment.” Dean switches the kettle on and shoots Aidan a fond, if slightly exasperated glance. 

“Well when you put it that way,” Aidan mumbles, moving forward until he’s standing back to chest with Dean, arms looped around Dean’s torso. Dean leans back with a hum on contentment, hair soft against Aidan’s cheek. He turns his head to capture Aidan’s lips in a kiss that lasts until the kettle starts whistling at them and they break apart, cheeks more that slightly flushed.

“Does that answer your question?”

“I just wanted to make sure.”

“Aidan, you’re it for me. That is, if that’s what you want,” Dean hastens to add and for the first time there’s a flicker of doubt across his face. Before he can say any more Aidan’s on him, lips pressing insistently against his, arms tugging him close until their bodies are pressed flush against each other. 

“Yes,” Aidan breaths into Dean’s mouth, unwilling to part for even a second. “Yes, yes, yes. Always.”

They never do end up drinking that tea.

 

\--

 

They move in together after six months and perhaps it would seem like they’re rushing it except that Aidan feels like he’s been in a relationship with Dean for six months but also for three years. Their new place is bigger than their old apartments but even still it feels slightly crammed at first, trying to fit all their stuff in. But as they learn about each other, as they start working together rather than trying to work around the other that slightly claustrophobic feel disappears. 

Aidan’s not had to share an apartment with anyone before so it’s a rather rude awakening to suddenly be kicked out of the bathroom for taking too long, to have to record a show because Dean’s watching something, to find the leftovers in the fridge are gone. But it’s also nice, to wake up to the smell of breakfast, to sit on the floor of their lounge together sorting through socks trying to find pairs because they’d shoved them all in the washing machine at the same time, to come home and have someone to share his day with. 

And once they figure out a routine Aidan can’t imagine ever living alone again. He finds that he can’t fall asleep unless Dean’s sprawled beside him. He goes home to Ireland for Christmas alone because Dean’s gone to visit his own family and he spends three nights tossing and turning until he finally passes out from sheer exhaustion. And it’s not just the warmth or the feeling of Dean’s body curled against his that he misses. It’s the sound of Dean’s breathing, the occasional murmur or light snore, the little snuffle he makes just before he wakes up. 

He works up the courage to tell his parents he’s in a relationship two days before he has to leave. What follows is an hour of questions and confusion as Aidan’s very Catholic parents try and navigate around the fact that their son has a boyfriend. 

“But you…. you’ve had _girlfriends._ ” 

Eventually though they come around to the idea and maybe Aidan’s mother looks a little teary eyed and his father’s jaw is tight but they don’t kick him out of the house or disown him and Aidan takes that as a good sign. He doesn’t bring up the subject again so it’s a bit of a surprise when they’re standing at the gate at the airport and his mother tells him she’d like to meet Dean. 

“I want to meet the man who’s made my son so happy,” she says as she cups his cheek and Aidan can’t stop smiling the entire flight home.

He gets back to their apartment to find Dean waiting for him, tanned from the New Zealand sun and more gorgeous than ever. They spend the next few days getting reacquainted, learning each other all over again and each night Aidan falls asleep to the sound of Dean breathing softly against his neck. 

 

\--

 

Dean’s quiet in bed. He always says Aidan is the demonstrative one but when it comes to sex, Dean is nothing _but_ touch. His hands trail across Aidan’s shoulders, down his back, counting vertebrae one by one as Aidan licks into his mouth. He clings to Aidan’s neck when Aidan buries himself within Dean, yanks at his hair when Aidan manages to drive in _just there_ and his breath comes out in soft pants against Aidan’s lips. His hands seek contact, seek _Aidan_ and it’s intimate in a way Aidan’s never experienced because Dean’s so vulnerable, so open and it feels like a privilege, to see him with his toes curled and eyes closed, to feel his fingers clutch at Aidan’s skin as he whimpers against Aidan’s neck. And when Dean finally does come, head thrown back in bliss and fingers clamped down on whatever part of Aidan he can reach, it’s always while breathing Aidan’s name like a prayer. 

“I love you,” Aidan says one night as they’re both slowly coming down from the high. “You don’t have to say it back, but I want you to know.”

Dean’s quiet for a long moment, eyes fixed on the ceiling. When he finally turns to look at Aidan his pupils are blown and his lips are swollen and he looks wrecked but he’s smiling, he’s _beaming_ at Aidan. “I love you too,” he says before rolling over to blanket Aidan’s body with his own, eyebrows raised suggestively as his hand trails down Aidan’s torso and then lower still and they try and make it last as long as they can but they keep laughing and Aidan’s cheeks are sore from smiling and Dean can’t stop giggling, breath hot against Aidan’s ear and it’s uncoordinated and happy and perfect. 

And once it’s finally out in the open they can’t seem to _stop_ saying it. It’s mumbled over breakfast, hushed over the phone during lunch breaks, breathed against hot skin in the night. Aidan worries that it’ll eventually lose its meaning, that one day Dean will say it and it just won’t be the same anymore. Dean chases that thought away with a soft kiss, whispers it against Aidan’s lips as he rocks their hips together and Aidan feels that familiar swell of happiness. It’s amazing, how three simple words can make him feel this way. 

 

\--

 

They’ve been together ten months when they have their first big fight. 

It’s over something stupid and trivial. Aidan forgets to bring milk home even after Dean’s texted him twice. It somehow escalates to them standing at opposite ends of the kitchen snapping at each other. And then Dean shakes his head and storms out and Aidan’s left standing alone in their apartment and he has no clue what he’s supposed to do.

He’s always been taught never to leave in the middle of an argument; you keep going until you reach the end, because leaving things unsaid is never healthy. You say what you need to say and once it’s all out in the open, then you deal with it because you don’t want the last thing you say to someone to be something you’ll lament over.

(He doesn’t know yet that Dean’s been taught the complete opposite; that if you feel an argument is too much you walk away before you say something you’re going to regret. You get out and you clear your head and when you’re ready, you come back and fix things.)

So when Dean wanders back in over an hour later with a bottle of milk, soaked to the bone because it’s started raining, it’s to find Aidan sitting at their dining table, head bowed and fingers clenched tightly in his hair. 

“You’re back,” Aidan says and he’s confused because there’s a part of him that wants to shout at Dean for leaving but there’s a larger part that wants to hug him. 

“I-I brought the milk,” Dean says unnecessarily, shivering slightly as a trickle of water makes its way down past his collar. He places it on the table and stands before Aidan, wringing his hands nervously. 

“I’m sorry,” Aidan blurts out and Dean’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“What?” He asks. 

“It was my fault, I should have just picked up the milk. You reminded me and I still forgot, I should have just gone to the shops and bought it.” But Dean’s shaking his head. 

“No, _I’m_ sorry. I made such a big deal out of it and its just milk.”

“You need milk in the morning.” 

“I need you more.”

There’s a silence that follows Dean’s words and then Aidan pushes his chair back and strides forward, burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, trembling fingers twisting into the wet fabric of Dean’s jacket. 

“The last thing I said to you was ‘maybe you should have gotten off your lazy arse and done it yourself,’” he mumbles into Dean’s neck and is rewarded with a light chuckle, a gentle brush of lips against skin. 

“I know you didn’t really mean it,” Dean says quietly but Aidan presses his face further against Dean’s collar, shakes his head slightly. 

“It doesn’t- just, don’t leave okay? If we have an argument, just- just stay.” 

Dean lets out a soft sigh, draws back so he can see Aidan’s face. 

“Aidan, I don’t want to stay and say something I’ll regret,” he says and there’s a tinge of pain in his voice.

“You won’t. Or well, you might but Dean, I’d rather you stayed here and talked or even yelled at me than leave again.” 

Aidan can’t even bring himself to look Dean in the eye because there’s something so personal about their conversation and it’s sharing information he’s never had to express before and he’s not sure why but in a way it’s even harder than saying _‘I love you’_. So instead he busies himself with the collar of Dean’s jacket, fussing as the cold seeps into his fingers from the wet material. 

Dean’s fingers eventually find his, drawing his hands down until they’re clasped together between them

“I hate confrontation. I hate arguments and I hate it when people are upset with me,” Dean states and Aidan nods because he knows this. Dean brings their hands forward until Aidan’s knuckles are pressed to his lips, warm breath sending a tingle through Aidan’s body. 

“But I’ll try.” 

Aidan folds himself back into Dean’s embrace and they stand together until Aidan’s own clothes are soaked through and Dean’s started to develop a cough. It’s only then that Aidan moves them both to the bathroom, adjusts the tap until the room is filled with steam and their reflections are blurred in the mirror. Dean doses off in the shower as Aidan lathers his hair with shampoo, cheek pressed to Aidan’s shoulder, fingers curled around his hip. He eventually jolts awake with a loud sneeze and Aidan can’t help but laugh at the surprised look on his face. He supposes he’s well deserving of the light punch that follows. 

And the next time they have a fight Dean does stay. And there are snappy retorts and snide comments thrown around and it stings and there’s a long moment where Aidan’s sure Dean’s going to leave because his back stiffens and his face becomes unreadable. But he doesn’t, he stays and Aidan’s overwhelmed with love because he knows how hard it is for Dean to do so. Later when they’ve made up and are curled together in bed, fingers tracing over skin in apology, Aidan kisses Dean chastely, lips barely touching.

“Thank you,” he murmurs and Dean doesn’t reply but his hand moves to intertwine their fingers, holding tight and Aidan understands. 

 

\--

 

It’s been one year since they’ve become a couple.

It’s been four years and five months since Dean moved into the apartment behind Aidan’s.

Aidan wakes to find Dean propped up on one elbow, one hand gently running through Aidan’s hair.

“Morning,” Dean says quietly, leaning down for a kiss.

“Mmm, happy anniversary,” Aidan replies against his lips.

And it is.


End file.
